Why Sherlock Holmes is a Cat
by Shepard.Commander87
Summary: He found the studies of feline and human interactions quite fascinating over time it seemed. He never quite realized that he could adopt it to his own social interactions in life as well. In order to see if this worked.. He had to test this theory. Sherlolly! :)


Hello Everyone!

I came up with this spur of the moment idea the other day when I saw a someone I follow on tumblr was quite sad... so I thought it would cheer them up!

So... in lieu of that... I thought I would share it with you all as well! I hope you all like it... and if so... please be sure to Read and Review! :D

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**Why Sherlock Holmes is a Cat**

Sherlock wasn't particularly a fan of cats yet he had to make an exception when he had no choice but to live with Molly for his own survival after the Fall.

He tried convincing her how much of a nuisance it was to own a feline companion; constantly feeding it, thus conditioning it to get food every time it whined to her. Always jumping to her lap wherever she sat, which then lead to the vile thing doing it to Sherlock himself. He would look at the plump feline and then pick it off of him gingerly and drop the poor thing to the floor unceremoniously, and the cat would walk off without a care in the world. The pet almost infuriated him with its nonchalance.

After staying with Molly for six months, he saw the toll his occupancy had taken on his new roommate. Molly hardly ever went out She began to lose weight, even if only subtly—he noticed. He didn't understand. She was suffering from his 'death' when the man himself sat watching crap telly in her flat. He expected the toll it took on John, Mrs. Hudson, even Lestrade—Molly though it seemed quite—foolish for it to affect her. He thought she would relish in the time they would be spending in one another's company, yet it was the opposite in fact. She barely talked to him, as if he weren't there.

Of course she made him food. After a few weeks of staying with Molly Sherlock had learned that Molly was quite the cook. They would even divulge in short conversation. So why? What was it that bothered her so?

He didn't realize it until a year of staying with her. One night Sherlock came home—yes he supposed Molly's flat was home to him now, after chasing down some leads on Moriaty's Network. He came in through the window like he always had. It was safer that way. Less chance of him being caught and less opportunity for people to find out Molly was involved. He heard a faint noise coming from Molly's room. Sherlock instantly became alert and walked swiftly and quietly to the door and peered through as it was left slightly opened.

Molly sat on her bed legs crossed crying softly with a pillow to her chest. "It's just so hard…" She began. He quirked a brow _What on earth is she talking about?_ He thought. "But I want to be strong for him." She added and Sherlock saw her feline companion, known as Toby jump to her side and curl in the hole that her legs made. He looked on in wonder as she smiled when he purred at her petting in between his ears. "What would I do without you, Toby? My baby…" She moved the pillow and grabbed her pet to pull him close and watched as the cat let out a pathetic rendition of a meow. She laughed and swiftly wiped her trail of tears away. "I will be strong for him. I have to be. I'm all he has right now." Molly concluded as she snuggled her Toby even closer than Sherlock thought possible.

Sherlock took in an intake of breath. "Of course…" He breathed out slowly. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" He whispered to himself in anger. He walked to the living room and sat on the sofa with his hands steepled in thought.

_How could I not have seen it? How foolish of me. I always miss something. _Sherlock thought.

_She was not _mourning _me… she was struggling to stay strong for me, and putting on the façade of all this for everyone else! _Sherlock threw his head to the side. _What could I do to show some sort of repayment?_

Sherlock had observed the interactions between Molly and Toby for many months. He had tried the normal approaches to being friendly such as making dinners, and doing things normal people did, but Sherlock wasn't necessarily 'normal', so this made things quite difficult. If he didn't burn his dinners to a crisp, or almost set off the alarm, he would create some sort of bio hazardous disaster. When he tried listening to her talk about her feelings he became instantly bored and it would show on his face which would cause Molly a great sense of discomfort which would cause Sherlock to be back where he began.

What he noticed about the relationship between Molly and Toby was that it was one of mutual gratification. They both seemed to get something out of one another's time and company. He could learn a thing or two from Molly's cat, he supposed. So he took some time and studied Toby intently. When Molly was at work he noticed Toby was quite lazy, almost to the point of unmoving. In fact—to be perfectly honest Sherlock was not much different. The only difference seemed to be was that Toby ate more than the detective.

After a few days of studying the pleasantly plump feline, Sherlock was thoroughly impressed. He gained a whole new respect for Molly's companion and how easily he seemed to be able to manipulate his master. He had to test this theory and see if it would work for him as well.

"Molly… could you please get me some tea?" Sherlock asked. Instead of straining his voice in a whine like his feline counterpart, he assumed his low baritone would be much more to Molly's liking, and to his observation, he was correct.

"What? Oh yes! Of course!" Molly said as she looked to the detective eyes bright and smiling. He had to admit she did look quite beautiful tonight. He shook his mind of such thoughts. He needed to concentrate on his experiment.

She quickly walked over to the detective with a warm mug of tea in hand and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.

"Thank you Molly." He purred. He assumed it would work as it did with Toby. She blushed profusely and looked away nodding. "Would you mind sitting with me?" He asked her politely enough.

"Well, there's no room! You take up the whole sofa!" She smiled. He sat up from the sofa swiftly and she took her place at the end, and he immediately lowered his head to her lap much to her surprise and nuzzled into her warmly.

"Sh—Sherlock… what are you doing?" Molly asked unsure of the situation unfolding before her.

"Don't spoil the moment Molly, I'm quite enjoying it. You smell nice. How was your day? You had quite a busy one going by the haste you took at eating your dinner implying you had no time for lunch." He said then finally looked up to her eyes smiling. She laughed lightly and placed one of her hands through his hair and he let out a sigh. "That… feels nice. No wonder why Toby likes it." Sherlock purred to her. Molly let out a loud laugh and pulled the detective closer to her then Sherlock encircled one of his arms around her.

"Day was fine, and you are right—as always… far too busy to eat I'm afraid."

"Make time to eat you are losing far too much weight." He said to her firmly.

"I will—"

"Molly…"

"I promise."

"Good." He let out a sigh and sat up facing her swiftly, his face inches from hers. "You don't have to hold the burden of my 'death' even in your own home you know. I am here. You can talk to me, see me." He said softly.

"I know…" She said to him shaky. "But it makes it more difficult to pretend with everyone else." She looked at his blue green orbs finally and he fought every urge in him to not roll his eyes.

"I know you are lonely Sherlock." He looked at her wide eyed. "I'm sorry I can do nothing to change that." She said looking down.

"You can do everything to change that Molly. Just being here in my presence does wonders. I am never lonely if you are close at hand." He said to her softly. She looked at him and smiled.

"I will always be here for you, Sherlock." She said.

"Promise?" He asked.

"I promise." She laughed out. He kissed her lightly on the lips and she peeped in surprise as he pulled away in surprise of himself but happy at the action.

"Thank you, Molly Hooper." He kissed her once more on the cheek and lain in her lap once more as Molly fingered her hands through his raven curls.

"This feels wonderful!" he said as he snuggled closer to her petite form. She giggled.

"Are you sure you're not a cat Mr. Holmes?" she smirked, and all she heard was a growl.

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I hope you like it! :)

Love, 87 ;D


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